


Coalescence

by ML_Fox



Series: Water of the Womb [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Black Family, Book Excerpts, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Related, Choices, Family, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Issues, Gen, Love, Minor Violence, POV Female Character, POV Narcissa Black Malfoy, POV Third Person, Past, Physical Abuse, Siblings, Sisters, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Violence, black sisters, family love, present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ML_Fox/pseuds/ML_Fox
Summary: Narcissa, youngest daughter of the family and the most obedient, witnessed Andromeda's betrayal with a broken heart. She learned the cost of choosing wrong and vowed to never be like Andromeda. Years later, with victory uncertain and her son lost inside Hogwarts, Narcissa finds that her choice is clear.





	

The sound, sharp and cracking, echoed throughout the hall.

Narcissa watched with empty eyes, hands interlaced behind her. Across was Druella, who lowered her hand. Standing before Druella was Andromeda. Her head turned to one side, long hair covering her face. Narcissa appraised her sister’s appearance: the dress she wore was ripped in places, spots of blood welled through the gaps, lacerations marred her once unblemished skin—the prideful handiwork of Bellatrix.

Bellatrix, who radiated glee as both of them witnessed their sister’s betrayal.

“Traitorous wench!” Druella pointed her wand at Andromeda, jerking her around. “After everything your father and I did for you!”

Andromeda was shoved against the pillar. Narcissa tensed as she heard her head crack against the marble. Druella pulled her wand back and Andromeda stumbled forward, seemingly on the brink of falling. Narcissa stepped forward, hand about to reach out, but Andromeda steadied herself. Narcissa stopped and resumed her position, squeezing her hands tightly as she interlaced them once more.

Finally, Andromeda looked up and revealed her face. There was a gash across the right side of her forehead, curving to her temple. A thin slash lined her left cheek; rivulets of blood seeped from it, trailing down to her neck. Her fists were clenched, which reopened the cuts on her arms. Any normal person would show pain or anguish or tears on their faces… but not Andromeda. Her expression was pure determination. The fire in her eyes was so great Narcissa nearly burned from it.

“Whoring yourself to mudblood scum—tarnishing the House of Black!” Druella paced as Andromeda straightened. “What demon possessed you to shame us this way?”

“She _enjoys_ being a right old slut,” Bellatrix taunted. “She desires the mudbloods—”

“Shut your mouth, Bellatrix,” Andromeda snapped.

“Don’t you speak to Bella that way!” Druella pointed her wand at Andromeda again. “She is responsible— _proper_. She fulfils her obligations. For Salazar’s sake, Narcissa is younger than you and even she knows what she must do!”

“Well, she’s indoctrinated with rubbish—” Andromeda stopped as Druella slapped her again.

“Enough of your insolence!” Druella stomped forward, gripped Andromeda’s hair and yanked back. Narcissa didn’t miss her sister’s cut lip or her ringing words. She squeezed her hands again. “What  _rubbish_  has this animal been feeding into your head, hmm?”

“H-he’s not an animal!” Andromeda gritted. “He fed me nothing!”

“No?” Druella dragged the tip of her wand up Andromeda’s torso, jamming it into her jugular. “He excites you then? I suppose mudbloods and their barbarity presents some…  _thrill_. Don’t you agree, my loves?”

“Disgusting,” Bellatrix spat.

“No,” Narcissa answered. She tried to ignore her crawling skin as she stared at her mother’s face—the polite eyes, the cheerful smile, and the menace lying just beneath them.

“See? Your sisters disagree.”

“He—he is kind!” Andromeda cried. Druella dug the tip of her wand deeper in her throat. “He’s the kindest, bravest man I’ve ever—”

“ _Kind_?” Druella laughed, prompting Bellatrix to join. Narcissa maintained her silence. “You spread your legs for that filth because he is  _kind_? Dear Morgana, you sold yourself so cheaply.”

Bellatrix guffawed. Narcissa caught the tears spilling from the corners of Andromeda’s eyes and swallowed hard as a lump began to form in her throat.

“I only…” Andromeda rasped, “ _only_  followed… my heart… mother!”

“YOU HAVE RUINED THIS FAMILY!”

Narcissa flinched. Druella’s shriek was like icicles, piercing her ears and sending shivers down her spine. With a fierce flick of her wand, Druella jerked Andromeda to the floor. A sick feeling twisted Narcissa’s gut as her sister smacked right against the marble, unable to save herself from falling. This was more than what she could stomach; she wanted to avert her eyes, but she squeezed her hands again. _She must not look away._

“You do not belong here,” Druella gritted. Narcissa’s heart twinged. “You never did. Knowing that something like you came from me disgusts me to my very core—I’ve birthed a monster.”

Bellatrix giggled. The words stabbed Narcissa. She watched Andromeda try to rise from the floor, torn and appalled at how every part of her wanted to go to Andromeda’s side and help her. But she mustn’t. She must stay put.

“Get out of my house,” Druella barked as Andromeda straightened.

“May I impart a farewell gift, mama?” Bellatrix asked, voice saccharine. Narcissa glanced at her in time to see her brandish her wand.

“Whatever makes you happy, my darling—”

“No!” the word left Narcissa without her permission. Her body acted of its own accord and before her mind could catch up, she was shielding Andromeda from Bellatrix. She froze upon realising what she had done. Fear, heavy and oppressive, grabbed at her heart. Nevertheless, she looked at her mother in the eyes. “I-it’s just…” she trailed off upon finding her voice too soft. She cleared her throat and tried again. “This is enough. We do not want to be excessive. We must not let rubbish like her push us into barbarity. Let all the shame fall upon her, mother… not this house.”

Silence followed her words. Narcissa did not dare move a muscle as Druella stared at her. In her periphery she caught Bellatrix pointing her wand at her. _At her_. After what felt like an eternity, Druella stepped towards her. Narcissa tensed, trying to stop herself from flinching as her mother raised her hand.

“Oh, my love,” Druella simpered and laid her palm gently on Narcissa’s cheek. “My  _sweet_ , sweet girl.” Her hand travelled down Narcissa’s jaw, her neck, and then stopped over her chest. “That soft heart will be your ruin.”

Bellatrix sighed impatiently. “Forget Cissy—”

“Silence,” Druella commanded, still staring at Narcissa. “You may… leave without further damage, wench. Count your lucky stars that merciful Narcissa is here.”

“ _What—_ ” Bellatrix shrieked.

“However,” Druella raised her voice and dug her nails into Narcissa’s skin. “If I see you again not even Morgana herself can save you.”

“Mama!”

Narcissa’s mouth dried as her mother smiled brightly at her. She licked her lips and nodded. Andromeda remained silent. Meanwhile, a stomp exploded from where Bellatrix stood. Anxiety roiled in the pit of Narcissa’s stomach, which didn’t disappear even when Druella dropped her hand. “Come, my Bella. You must prepare for Rodolphus’ visit tonight.”

“But mama—”

“ _Now_.” Druella stepped away. “Narcissa, send that rubbish out and come to the drawing room for a chat.”

“Yes, mother.” Narcissa could not relax even when her mother was far away. She could barely breathe. She watched the two walk out of the hall and like a marionette cut from its strings, she sagged the moment she no longer saw a hint of them. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“Thank you,” Andromeda murmured.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Narcissa snapped.

“Yes,” Andromeda chuckled. “You shouldn’t have. But I am glad—”

“Why?” Narcissa whipped around to face her sister. An overwhelming emotion pushed her fear and tension away, threatening to split her chest open. Now, she just needed to have a go at something. “Why did you do it?”

“I love him, Cissy.”

“And us? Don’t you love us?”

“Narcissa.” Andromeda approached her. “Oh, Narcissa I do. I do love you—”

“But you’re destroying us for him!” her voice rang across the hall. She recoiled just as Andromeda was about to touch her. “There are better men out there!  _Pure-blooded men!_  Men willing to marry you—you only had to pick one of them, for Morgana’s sake!”

“Narcissa—”

“If it was kindness you wanted they could have given it to you!”

“ _No._  No, it’s not—it’s not that,” Andromeda sighed. “Not really. It’s just… him.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“I know.” She smiled. The warm helplessness sickened Narcissa. “But one day it will. You’ll love someone, Cissy, and then—it won’t matter. Pure-bloods, Half-bloods, Muggleborns… they won’t matter anymore.”

“Rubbish.”

“Yeah, it’s all… floaty. But it’s the truth.”

Narcissa stared at Andromeda as though she had never seen her before. Who was this person? Where was the  _real_  Andromeda? The one who was ever so dutiful, more so than her. The one whose logic and stoic grace balanced out Bella’s overzealous and maniacal cruelty? The one who was the perfect older sister to her—brushed her hair, helped pick her dresses, made fun of the boys with her? How could someone like that say such irresponsible things? Blood was all that mattered. Fortune, friendship, and family had no bearing on what was truly important.

“Narcissa!”

She shook her head, willed her heart to steel itself. This tattered woman was not her sister. This was a witch who selfishly chose to stray. If Narcissa listened to her… if she did the same she’d end up in the same way. She didn’t want that.

Becoming Andromeda… was something Narcissa did not want at all.

“Narcissa!” Druella’s voice echoed from the floor above.

“Get out,” Narcissa said, shrinking back when Andromeda reached out for her.

She dropped her hand. “Okay.”

“Narcissa!”

She opened the door with a wave of her wand. Crossing her arms, she ignored Andromeda’s mournful look, but her throat tightened as Andromeda walked to the door. She gritted her teeth. Meanwhile, above them, Druella continued to call Narcissa’s name—a grating command that she had to answer soon. But she needed to see Andromeda leave.

Finally, Andromeda crossed the threshold. Narcissa closed the door in her face just as she looked back.

“Narcissa!”

* * *

 

“Narcissa.”

She blinks. The memory fades from her mind. She looks up and sees Lucius’ face—tense, filthy with ash, soot, and dirt. “What is it?”

“Potter has arrived.” Gently, he pulls her up.

“He has?” she grips his hands and looks to where the Dark Lord stands. Right across from him, on the other side of the clearing, is Potter. Noise erupts at his presence. The Death Eaters hoot and jeer; the giants roar; and the oaf Hagrid is the loudest of them all with his protests, which Rowle stops with a flick of his wand. She catches sight of Bellatrix standing near the Dark Lord. Her chest was heaving, her expression eager as her head swivels between the two.

The noise dwindles to silence. A pause settles on all of them. It’s short—half a minute at most, but for Narcissa the spaces between the seconds are one chain of eternity linked to another. The Dark Lord does nothing. Potter is the same. Her patience wears thin and anxiety spikes through her gut. But she knows she must wait.

 “Harry Potter,” the Dark Lord says softly.  _Finally_. “The Boy Who Lived.” He raises his wand.

“This is it,” Lucius breathes into Narcissa’s ear. “Once Potter dies…”

She nods.

Another second passes. Two. Three. Suddenly, green light explodes in the clearing. It’s so blinding that Narcissa shields her eyes and turns away. In an instant it disappears. Cries of shock, horror, and grief follow it, so loud and terrifying that it curdles her blood.

“What’s happened?” she demands Lucius. He doesn’t answer. She opens her eyes, but barely sees anything with the lights dancing in her vision. She blinks rapidly, forcing them to adjust, and looks around. The Death Eaters have broken formation; they’re all making their way to the spot where the Dark Lord stood. Some of them are already huddling around so Narcissa barely sees anything. A heavy feeling drops in her stomach. She turns to Lucius, sees that his face has gone pale and his eyes are wide with shock.

“Lucius.” Narcissa murmurs, shaking him.

He jumps, looking at her as though he’s never seen her before. “T-the Dark Lord,” he rasps, voice catching. “He… he fell.”

“ _No_!” she turns back to the furore. The Dark Lord remains unseen. Potter, on the other hand, lies flat on his back and not moving. Nobody is going to him. Is he dead? He can be dead. The Dark Lord very well can be too.

Panic slams into Narcissa—choking and suffocating, gripping her heart. Her breaths shortened. What will she do now? What can she do? If Potter and the Dark Lord are both dead that’s all of her chances gone. She needs to find Draco—keep him safe. Take him far from here. But she can’t now. She  _can’t_. Tears press up her throat. She keels over. Her breaths were nothing but pants now, pushing her on the brink of fainting. Lucius’ hands are tight on her arms; his voice shaped around her name, but it was fuzzy. Bellatrix wailed in the distance, louder than the rest and more horrifying.

“Narcissa!” Lucius calls. “Narcissa!”

“He’s gone—gone…”

“Pull yourself together!” he shakes her firmly. “He’s not dead yet!”

“What if he is?” she retorts, glaring at him. “If he is—what about Draco? How will we get him?”

“We’ll find a way—”

“No! They’ll take him—they’ll kill him, Lucius!” she sinks into his arms and cries in earnest. He holds her close, but says nothing. Meanwhile, the Death Eaters continue to cry their lament.

Minutes pass. Narcissa still clings to Lucius. Her tears are spent; hopelessness replaces her panic. It’s been too long—the Dark Lord is most likely dead. So is Potter. She doesn’t know what to do to get her son back. Should they break from the Death Eaters now? At this point she’s not above running to Hogwarts and begging for her son.

“My Lord…  _my Lord_ …”

A hush falls over the clearing. Narcissa’s freezes. That’s Bellatrix’s voice. She pulls away from Lucius and looks to the clearing.

“My Lord…”

“That will do.”

That is… the Dark Lord’s voice. Narcissa’s heart stutters. The Death Eaters recede in a dark wave, backing away until she finally sees Bellatrix kneeling. Narcissa can see him now, sitting up next to Bellatrix, attempting to get to his feet.

“My Lord,” Bellatrix simpers, extending her hand. “Let me—”

“I do not require assistance,” he snaps. Her hand recoils. “The boy… is he dead?”

Silence encompasses the clearing, oppressive and deafening. It’s as if everyone is holding their breath at the same time. No one dares to move forward.

“You.” Narcissa stiffens as the Dark Lord turns to her, pins her with his glare. He raises his wand. A bang echoes throughout the clearing. She shrieks as pain explodes in her body. Her knees buckle, but she remains upright. “Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead.”

She’s gasping for breath. She wants to collapse, but she  _must_  remain standing. She feels Lucius’ gaze boring into her back. Her mouth is dry. She nods, licking her lips. The crowd parts, creating a path for her as she stumbles forward. Her chest is like a drum—her heart is beating so aggressively against it, but she can barely discern any rhythm. This is worse than when she watched her mother punish Andromeda all those years ago.

The memory flashes in her mind again and she swallows hard.

Harry Potter looms before her. She kneels beside him and touches his face. It’s cool. She pulls back one of his eyelids, suppressing a gasp to see his eye moving. Breathing shallowly, she slips her hand underneath his shirt and presses her palm over his heart. Her mouth parts slightly. No mistaking it. That’s the faint thumping of his heart under her hand. She bends over him, shaking her head to curtain them with her hair.

“Is Draco alive?” she whispers in his ear. “Is he in the castle?”

“Yes,” Potter breathes back.

Overwhelming relief washes over her. Her hand curls, nails nearly piercing the boy’s skin. She withdraws and straightens. She turns to the crowd, eyes and face glowing in triumph. “He is dead!”

And they shout in victory.

**Author's Note:**

> [FF.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12214893/1/Coalescence) | [Tumblr](http://myuntoldstory.tumblr.com/post/152598298020/harry-potter-coalescence)
> 
> And I am still not dead! 
> 
> Recently, I've just been bogged down with work, trying to find a full-time job, and this addictive as all hell mobile otome game that took over my life way more than Pokemon Go ever did. 
> 
> The Black sisters have always intrigued me, especially their relationships. I'm particularly interested in Narcissa who's clearly an unpleasant woman, but her redeeming trait are her motherly love towards Draco and her love for Lucius. So I thought I'd play around with that. Anyway, enjoy!


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